


you as a warning sign

by OpheliaMarina



Series: Blue Moon [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaMarina/pseuds/OpheliaMarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you, Chloe,” Max says. “I always will.”</p><p>She remembers saying this, but she can’t remember when. Maybe that means she didn’t say it at all. Maybe it means Chloe still doesn’t know.</p><p>(Postscript to Polarized - Save Chloe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you as a warning sign

“I love you, Chloe,” Max says. “I always will.”

She remembers saying this, but she can’t remember when. Maybe that means she didn’t say it at all. Maybe it means Chloe still doesn’t know.

\---

In this storm, in the one where Chloe’s here with her, Chloe is licking her lips. “If-” she says. “If we get down there, and- and my mom’s gone, you have to go back. You have to go back to Monday.”

Her hair is plastered dark against her forehead, beanie lost in the howling wind, and it makes Max think, inexplicably, of being in the pool with her, last Tuesday, like it was a million years ago. There were butterflies in her stomach then. There’s a butterfly photo in her hand now.

“No,” she says numbly.

“Max!” Chloe yells, and whether it’s over the storm screaming right beside them or over the tears Max knows are caught in her throat, caught in Max’s own throat, she can’t be sure. “That’s my fucking mom down there! If it was y-your mom-”

But Max’s mom isn’t down there. It’s scary, that Max doesn’t know how much it would matter if she were. “I’m not gonna lose you, Chloe,” she says, and her teeth are chattering and her hands are shaking and she’s going to have to yell. That gets caught in her throat too. “I’m not gonna let you die! I did everything- everything to save you, and I’m not- I _won’t_ -”

And the thing is, she can see the world ripping apart. The town below. Time. Space. All of everything. But she can also see Chloe glaring at her, solid, eyes bright and furious, and Max won’t ever move her right hand again, won’t ever touch Chloe again, if it means she’ll keep standing there, being alive.

That’s what she thinks, anyway, and then Chloe stamps one foot and shouts, “Why, after this whole week, are you choosing right now to be _selfish_ -” And then she’s kissing Max like it’s the only thing to be done, like it’s all she can do. 

It’s angry and hurt and hopeless, and when the storm shakes them both Chloe’s teeth drag across Max’s lip and tear it open. The taste of blood isn’t that different from the taste of the salt water whipping up all around them. It isn’t enough to make a difference. It isn’t enough. 

Maybe this was supposed to change Max’s mind, but when Chloe’s hands fall from her face all she can say is, “Chloe- I can’t. Even if this is all my fault.” It is, it is, it is. She knows she’s crying, but that doesn’t matter either. “I can’t do this.”

Chloe’s eyes search her face, and she could be looking for weakness, could be looking for some kind of hope. Max doesn’t know what she finds there, but whatever it is, it makes Chloe’s face crumple. 

“Okay, Max,” she says, but it’s not a compromise. It’s a defeat. “Okay.”

The photo’s fluttering hard in Max’s hand, stretching itself up, away, into the storm. Over Chloe’s arm, still braced against her shoulder, she looks down at it, and begins to open her fingers.

Viselike, Chloe’s hand snaps shut around it, trapping the photo where it is. “Don’t,” she says, and when Max looks at her, she’s not looking back. Her gaze is fixed on their hands, closed over the photo and each other, and she’s frowning. When she looks at Max, her expression is unknowable.

“You don’t have to use it,” Chloe says. “I can’t make you. But… don’t get rid of it. For me.”

It’s not the most unreasonable thing Chloe’s ever asked of her. Max takes a shuddering breath, and shoves the photo into her pocket. 

Chloe’s whole body sags, and she drags Max into her, holds her so tight against her collarbone Max can’t see anything but soaked blue split ends and darkness. “Max,” she says. “I’ll be with you. No matter what.”

There’s no such thing as a guarantee, but there is such thing as always. Max closes her eyes.

\---

They sleep on the floor of the lighthouse, curled together like cats and ambivalent to the idea of death. But they do wake up, and when they do, it takes them almost four hours just to climb down the hill to get back into town.

Chloe throws up at the first dead body they see. Max doesn’t say anything, just holds her hair back and presses a hand, soft, between her shoulders. She doesn’t recognize whoever it is- some middle-aged woman- but it doesn’t change that she’s dead because they’re alive.

They keep moving.

After passing five more bodies and three destroyed houses, Chloe stops, heaves a few deep breaths, and says, “Do you have your phone?”

“Holy shit,” Max says, “yeah,” and pulls it out of her pocket. The butterfly photo comes tugging out along with it, and she shoves it back as hastily as she can but she can still see Chloe’s eyes follow it. It’s 7:43 in the morning, October 12th. She has 23 percent of battery left. “Um. Who should I-”

“My mom,” Chloe says immediately, and when Max makes to hand the phone to her, she shakes her head vehemently. “No! No, you call, and if-”

She makes several uncertain hand gestures, and Max just nods, and reaches for her with her other hand, this one empty. Chloe takes it, looking grateful, and Max squeezes it as the ringtone starts up.

After ten seconds without answer, she’s about to tell Chloe that even if no one answers that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but then there’s a click. “Max?”

“David!” she says, surprised to hear a voice at all, much less his, and Chloe’s hand squeezes hers harder. “Oh my god-”

“Max, where are you?” he says, his gruff voice sounding strained and thick with worry. “Are you hurt? Is- is Chloe with you?”

“Chloe’s here, she’s with me, she’s safe,” Max says, because isn’t that the most important thing? “We’re not hurt, we’re by the lighthouse-” 

Chloe’s ear is nearly pressed right up to the other side of the phone. This doesn’t even feel real. “My mom,” she’s whispering, “my mom.”

“Oh, thank god,” David says, and his voice is so heavy and tangible with relief that Max can feel Chloe draw back, just slightly, brow furrowed. “Thank god. We evacuated, but if the storm’s over I can come get-”

Eyes narrow now with frustration, Chloe shouts, “My mom, Max!”

“David, it’s okay, if you could just text us directions we’ll come to you,” Max says hurriedly. “Listen, is Joyce there? Can we talk to her?”

For one terrible moment, David says, “oh,” and Chloe looks completely devastated. Then he says, “Yeah, of course, give me one-”

A dry sob chokes out of Chloe, and then she’s grabbing the phone with one hand and grabbing Max with the other, dragging them both into her with shaking hands. Max clutches her, wrapping her arms around Chloe’s waist and pressing her nose into her shoulder.

“Mom?” Chloe’s voice says, tentatively, then, shuddering with relief, “Mom! Oh my god, Mom, I love you too!”

\---

What’s left of Arcadia Bay- or rather, who’s left of Arcadia Bay, because very little’s left standing of the town itself- is gathered fifty miles right of the coast, in a large, cold building very much like a warehouse. When Max and Chloe push open the doors to see hundreds of people crowded together and wrapped in blankets, Max’s first thought is of a can of sardines.

When Chloe sees Joyce, sitting beside a standing David with a threadbare towel tossed over her shoulders, she goes running, dragging Max behind her by the hand. The eyes that follow them as they run are hollow, empty, unknowable. Max looks into all of them. She never sees anything back.

They don’t say _you did this to us, Max_. They don’t say _you took away my baby, my husband, my daughter _. Of course they don’t. They don’t even know.__

__But Max does._ _

__Then Chloe is letting go of her hand to throw her arms around Joyce’s neck, and Max looks away from all the eyes to look at them. She watches Chloe wrap her arms around Joyce, watches Joyce clutch at Chloe like it’s the first and last time, and she tries to forget, just for a moment, to let herself have this._ _

__David turns to her and is about to say something when Joyce’s eyes open, see Max over Chloe’s shoulder, and gasps wetly. “Maxine Caulfield,” she breathes, “you brought my baby back to me.” And then a new arm is pulling at her, and she’s enveloped tight in both Chloe and Joyce, the smell of fire and gasoline and salt water and Joyce’s perfume, and it feels like being eleven again, it feels like nothing’s wrong._ _

__She closes her eyes. Chloe’s arm tightens over her back._ _

__\---_ _

__Later, Chloe and Joyce are off to find food, and Max is left with David. He finds her a blanket. She puts it over her shoulders. They don’t talk for a while._ _

__He says, “Are you all right?”_ _

__“Chloe’s alive,” Max says. “I’m fine.”_ _

__That gives her a strange side-eye, but then he just huffs a little and nods. “I understand.” There’s another moment of silence, then he goes on. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for finding her. I’m glad that… we’re just so blessed to have this second chance.”_ _

__That just makes Max’s stomach turn over. She remembers seeing Jefferson’s brains splattered across the dark room floor, in another reality that she’d left to rot, and takes a deep breath. “Where’s Jefferson?”_ _

__David’s gaze immediately goes dark. “Locked up in another room. Two cops watching him. Got the FBI on their way to take him away for questioning tomorrow. Son of a bitch would be dead if I had anything to do with it.”_ _

__“David,” she says, and this time when she looks around at all the empty gazes she feels like one of them, pretends that she can be one of them instead of what their aimless gazes are seeking. “How many people are dead?”_ _

__His voice gentler than she’s ever heard before, he says, “You don’t have to do that to yourself, Max.”_ _

__“I have to know.”_ _

__Maybe it’s the soldier in him. Maybe it’s the would-be father. He looks away from her, sighs, and says, “I don’t know the exact number. I mean, they’re still counting. Lots of people missing. But… confirmed dead is in the thousands already.”_ _

__Thousands of people dead. All because Max was so fucking insecure about her photo on Monday._ _

__Chloe drops down beside her, not exactly in high spirits but with a lot more color in her cheeks than had been there this morning. “Hey,” she says. “I got you a hot dog. It’s gonna be cold, but beggars can’t be choosers and all that.”_ _

__Max looks down at the hot dog, laughs, then bursts into tears._ _

__\---_ _

__There’s no mattresses left for two relatively uninjured girls who showed up a day late, but there’s just enough space on the floor to spread a blanket and lay down if they pull their knees in a little bit. Max’s back is about an inch or so from Joyce’s, and she’s facing Chloe, who’s curled up with her eyes closed._ _

__She doesn’t touch Chloe. She won’t._ _

__At one point, when the echo of snores and snuffling has quieted down just slightly and the warehouse is ghostlike, nearing silence, Chloe says, without opening her eyes, “Aren’t you cold?”_ _

__For a moment she thinks Chloe might be talking in her sleep, but then one of her eyes crack open to meet Max’s and she draws back a little, surprised. Her hoodie’s thrown over her back as a makeshift blanket, but it’s still damp from the storm and the warehouse is freezing. Still, though, she says, “Um, I’m okay.”_ _

__Chloe’s one open eye narrows, then she says, “Well, I’m cold,” sounding grumpy, “come here.”_ _

__One of the arms gathered tight against her chest opens, and hesitantly Max inches forward. Once she’s in range, Chloe pulls her as tight into her chest as possible, and Max closes her eyes, eyelashes fluttering against Chloe’s collarbone. Close like this, she can feel Chloe shivering, the shuddering of her ribs. Chloe’s chin tucks over her head, sharp and bony._ _

__She thinks, after a minute and a half of silence, that this might be all there is, that she might be supposed to go still and silent now, but then Chloe says, “I saw Frank.”_ _

__“Mm,” Max says. Since Joyce was here, she has to assume Frank and Warren and Pompidou all made it out okay. She hadn’t given it too much thought._ _

__“I had to tell him Rachel is dead,” Chloe whispers._ _

__Of course she did. Even when it’s letting her live, the universe won’t give Chloe a fucking break. “Oh my god, Chloe,” Max whispers, her breath hot and puffing against Chloe’s skin. “I’m so fucking sorry.”_ _

__She doesn’t look up, but the scrape of chin against hair tells her Chloe’s shaking her head. “He didn’t take it well,” she says, “but. A lot of people are dead, so he just gets to suffer right along with them. Apparently she’s gonna be on the mass funeral list when they hold a service.” One of her hands comes up from Max’s waist to run through her hair, in slightly anxious repetition. “But he said he was glad I’m okay. He was glad you’re okay. It’s fucked up, but I’m glad he’s alive too. Rachel would have wanted that.”_ _

__If the storm really was half Max and half Rachel, then it’s more likely Rachel wants them all dead, but Max doesn’t say that. She gathers her hands into soft fists, presses them light against Chloe’s chest where she can feel the heartbeat. “I’m still sorry,” she says._ _

__After that, Chloe doesn’t speak again, but she does press a very hard kiss to the top of Max’s head before falling asleep._ _

__Max doesn’t close her eyes, just watches Chloe’s chest rise and fall._ _

__\---_ _

__The first person on her phone screen when she wakes up, under “missed messages” is Kate, along with seven missed calls from her mom and dad and five texts from Warren. Chloe’s still asleep, so she sneaks out from beneath her arm and steps outside to answer them. The dawn air is brisk, and biting._ _

__“Kate?”_ _

__“ _Oh my- Max_!” _ _

__Her whole body sags at the sound of Kate’s voice, sweet and gentle and familiar. She leans up against the wall of the building, lets the feeling of cold metal seep into her skin. “Kate, oh my god. It is so good to hear your voice.”_ _

__“ _I thought you might be dead_!” Kate says, her voice so high with fear. “ _Oh, Max, I was so scared. I’ve barely heard from anybody, do you know who else is- is-_ ”_ _

__Max shakes her head and closes her eyes. The rising sun is hard red against her eyelids. “I don’t know. I’ve been with Chloe and her parents this whole time, I haven’t seen anyone else.”_ _

__“ _Warren called me, asking if I’d heard from you_ ,” Kate says. “ _And Alyssa texted me a few hours ago, but no one else so far. Oh, but Max, I’m so glad you’re okay. And Chloe, too. I was up all night praying for you._ ”_ _

__That raises an interesting question, in terms of Max’s soul and all that, but she disregards that worrying inkling of a thought to say, “Thanks, Kate. I’m so relieved you were out of this mess, you have no idea. You’ve been through enough.”_ _

__Kate sighs. “ _No one deserved to be in or out of the storm_ ,” she says. “ _Sometimes terrible things just happen to good people, even if it’s not their fault. You taught me that, Max_.”_ _

__If no one else, Kate deserves to believe that Max is a better person than she is. Throat suddenly itching with tears, Max says, “I know, Kate. Listen, I gotta go, but. I love you, okay?”_ _

__“ _I love you, too, Max_ ,” Kate says, soft and gentle. “ _I’ll keep praying. You keep the faith, too_.”_ _

__Max means to respond, but suddenly Chloe is tearing out the door to her left, looking panicked, and she hits the end call button prematurely in surprise. “Chloe?”_ _

__At her voice, Chloe whirls on her heel, stares at Max, then sags and sprints towards her, giving barely a second’s notice before pulling her into her arms. Max hugs her back, startled. “Hey, is everything-”_ _

__“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Chloe whispers._ _

__Her arms are shaking, and Max strokes one hand down her hair. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you up.”_ _

__“Fuck, yeah,” Chloe says, and to Max’s utmost shock and relief, gives a small, stuttering giggle. “I think I’ve got enough beauty sleep to carry both of us.”_ _

__Startled into amusement, Max starts giggling, and then Chloe is too, and they’re both laughing in the watery light of the early morning sunlight, a little helpless._ _

__\---_ _

__There’s a body count, and they eat lunch with Joyce and David, and after that Max calls her parents._ _

__Her mom starts crying when she answers, immediately, and Chloe drapes an arm over Max and guides her head against her shoulder. Max relaxes against her, and feels bone-dry and too tired and too inhuman to cry. “Hi, Mom. I’m really sorry I didn’t call earlier.”_ _

__“ _Oh baby, oh my baby girl_ ,” her mom sobs. “ _I’ve been so, so scared. Are you okay_?”_ _

__More okay than most people. Too okay. “I’m fine, Mom,” she says. “I’ve been staying at a shelter with Chloe and Joyce. Most of the other survivors are here too.” When she hears her mom choke on a cry, she bites her lip, hard. There’s still a cut there where Chloe’s teeth scraped across it, salty and stinging. “Mom, listen. Joyce and Chloe’s stepdad and Chloe and me had a talk, and- and would it be okay if Chloe and I came to stay with you guys in Seattle for a while, maybe?”_ _

__Her mom’s already beginning to say “ _oh, honey_ ,” but for some reason she keeps rushing through words. “It’s just that there are so many people here who need more help than us, and there’s not enough space, and there’s nowhere to go, and Chloe- we won’t stay forever, probably just a few weeks or something-”_ _

__Chloe’s hand is rubbing circles into her right shoulder blade, and Joyce is looking at her with what can best be described as pitying affection. Max closes her mouth, slow._ _

__“ _Of course, baby_ ,” her mom says, gentle as anything. “ _You can stay here as long as you want. And I know your dad and I would be just thrilled to see Chloe again_.”_ _

__Her parents would never have seen Chloe again if Max hadn’t had the tornado vision in class that day. They wouldn’t even have known who she grew up to be. All of a sudden Max is shaking, and Chloe is gripping her shoulders._ _

__Oblivious, her mom keeps speaking. “ _I can have your dad come down to get you two tonight, if you want_.”_ _

__“N-no,” Max says, and her voice is trembling, and Joyce is looking at her with concern. She leans back, solid, into Chloe’s hands. “They’re doing a mass service for people who died on Wednesday, Chloe and I will drive up after. I really think we should, you know, s-stay for that-”_ _

__Against her back, Chloe’s hands are curling into fists. In her ear, her mother is saying, “ _Baby, I completely understand. I’m so sorry, did you lose people you knew_?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Max says. “Everyone.”_ _

__That’s pretty much the end of her call with her mom._ _

__\---_ _

__‘Everyone’ isn’t far off, as far as estimates go. Out of everyone from Blackwell that Max knew, the only ones who are still alive are Kate, Warren, Brooke, Alyssa, Daniel and Dana. Everyone else is dead, cold and sometimes unrecognizable._ _

__Dana is running across the shelter and sobbing into her shoulder as soon as they see each other. “Max, I lost Juliet, it’s all my fault,” she says. “Trevor, and Juliet- if I’d gone to find them to begin with, they wouldn’t be dead. I’m so fucking selfish.”_ _

__“It’s not your fault, Dana,” Max says, because of course it’s not, of course there’s only one place for blame to fall. “This isn’t at all your fault. I’m so sorry.”_ _

__Sniffling into her shoulder, Dana says, “I’m so glad you’re okay, though. I was asking around for you, but nobody knew where you were. You’re okay? Your girlfriend?”_ _

__That takes some of the strength out of Max’s knees, that concern for Max extends all the way to Chloe, and she hugs Dana tighter. “I’m okay,” she says. “We’re okay.”_ _

__“I heard about all that crazy bullshit with Jefferson,” Dana whispers in her ear. “That it was you and her that found him out. And that he killed Rachel, and hurt Kate, and had all these-these fetish binders? And was in on it with Nathan? Is it true?”_ _

__There’s no point denying a rumor when it’s already spread to that extent, especially when it’s true. Max just sighs. “Yeah. The FBI already took him away, though. They asked me and Chloe and David some questions, and, I don’t know, they told us they’d be in touch.”_ _

__Breath ruffling Max’s hair, Dana holds her out at arm’s length to look at her critically. “God, Max, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” she says. “I wish I could be a hell of a lot more like you. Weren’t you scared?”_ _

__And obviously Max was, back then she’d never been more scared, in the bunker knowing Chloe was dead and Rachel was dead and she was going to be dead and everyone else was going to be dead, and she’d been so scared during the storm too. But now, ever since she’d woken up in the lighthouse with Chloe breathing between her arms, she hasn’t felt much of anything, other than occasional stabs of love so fierce they were frightening._ _

__“I was so scared before,” Max says. “He really is a monster, Dana. But now I’m just- I’m glad Chloe’s okay, and you’re okay. I got to see the other side. I’m grateful for that.”_ _

__Dana doesn’t know that Max killed her town, killed Trevor and Juliet, to see the other side, to see Chloe okay there. She doesn’t know, so she squeezes Max’s shoulder, and smiles. “Me too, Max. I know what you mean.”_ _

__\---_ _

__The line Max had told her mom about them wanting to stay for the mass funeral service was only half-true. She really does want to go. Chloe point-blank refuses to join them._ _

__Joyce doesn’t make a fuss about it like Max thought she might, just kisses her forehead and says, “okay, sweetie,” before going to join David at the shelter entrance. Max gets down on her knees beside where Chloe is sitting cross-legged on the blanket, facing the wall._ _

__“I’ll see you later,” she says softly, and makes an aborted motion with her hand towards Chloe’s back. She doesn’t mean to do anything more than graze her spine, maybe rest her fingertips on the knob jutting out most prominently through the thin white fabric. But she can’t even do that. She starts pulling her hand away._ _

__With a speed Chloe hasn’t displayed in days, suddenly she’s turned around and snatching Max’s wrist, eyes sharp and dark. Her hand is cold, even through leather- she’d lent Max her jacket for the service, because Max doesn’t have any dark clothing anymore and black clothes quickly got snatched up whenever donations would roll in. “Max,” she says, voice low. “Don’t go. You don’t have to do this to yourself.”_ _

__And it’s an invitation to do what she’s already proved herself capable of, of saying fuck it and lying down beside Chloe and forgetting everyone else. It’s easy. It’s tempting._ _

__She can’t, though._ _

__“I want to,” Max says. “I have to. I promise I won’t be gone too long. You’ll get the truck ready, right?”_ _

__Chloe’s gaze searches her face, then she nods, slow. “I will,” she says. Then she hesitates, and without letting go of Max’s wrist, rolls a string bracelet off her other arm. “Would you do something? For me?”_ _

__“Anything,” Max says, and maybe it’s too soon, the word too devoted and genuine when it comes out of her, and she winces when Chloe closes her eyes at its sound. Without opening them again, Chloe presses the bracelet into her hand._ _

__“For Rachel,” she whispers. “Give this back to her for me. I can’t be there for her anymore.”_ _

__It’s probably only the beginning of what Max will be giving back to the dead. Her fingers close around the damp threads. “I will.”_ _

__At that, Chloe’s eyes open again, and when they meet Max’s, she must see something there that makes her come alive again. Suddenly she’s pulling Max forward, suddenly she’s crushing a kiss against Max’s bangs, angry and warm and unforgiving in its strength._ _

__“None of this is your fault,” she says against her forehead, fierce even though it’s muffled. “Max, this isn’t your fault.”_ _

__Not true, but with Chloe pressed against her like this, forceful and warm and with blood beating in Max’s ear, it’s dangerously easy to feel blameless._ _

__\---_ _

__There are more dead than living at the funeral. Max has a hand on Joyce’s back as the woman sobs onto David’s shoulder, and can’t manage to shed a single tear._ _

__Rachel’s name comes up early in the procession, since her last name begins with A, but she’s just a name on the list. Max isn’t sure, exactly, what to do with the bracelet, so she just squeezes it tighter in her hand._ _

__So many names, and Max forces herself to listen to every single one. Sometimes her mind will begin to wander, thinking of Chloe fixing at her truck, wondering what kind of provisions they should be bringing for the drive, and then she’ll hear a name like _Michelle Grant_ or _Stella Hill_ that snaps her back into reality._ _

__She should be spending more time in the present anyway._ _

__Finally, after what’s nearly four hours, people are beginning to filter away, and Joyce is reaching for her hand when Max sees a deer at the corner of the cemetery._ _

__It’s like time goes still all over again._ _

__“I’ll be there in a second,” she says distantly, and if Joyce says something about taking all the time she needs then she barely registers it. Dreamlike, she finds herself walking towards the deer, and it looks back at her with its big eyes and stays unmoving._ _

__“I don’t even know if you’re really here,” she finds herself saying._ _

__The deer doesn’t respond in any way unbecoming of a deer. It just looks at her._ _

__“I guess it doesn’t matter,” she says. “This is goodbye, isn’t it?”_ _

__Its head inclines, but not in any sort of unnatural way. For all Max knows it really is just some kind of exceptionally bold deer._ _

__But maybe it’s not._ _

__She kneels down in front of it, and opens her hand, Rachel’s bracelet bent and crinkled but sturdy in her palm. “I think this is meant for you,” she says. “Somehow.” And she lays it in the grass between them, and rocks back on her heels._ _

__The deer still doesn’t move._ _

__“Samuel said you might be my spirit animal,” she says, feeling herself compelled to keep speaking even though her words feels disconnected from her thoughts. “But then I thought you might be connected to Rachel. Maybe you were a sign for both of us.”_ _

__Now the deer comes forward, and nudges her arm a little. Surprised, she draws back, then leans forward again and puts a hand on its nose._ _

__“What would she have done, do you think?” she whispers, stroking it gently. “If she were in my place, would she have made the same choice?”_ _

__The deer is a deer. It nudges her hand slightly with its nose, and her palm comes away. Then it inclines its head, lifts the bracelet up with its teeth, and wanders away, back into the woods and out of sight._ _

__And maybe it was just a deer. Maybe Max has just been going crazy all along. All that Max knows for sure is Rachel is dead, and didn’t have to do what she did._ _

__\---_ _

__When they come back, Chloe is itching to leave. She doesn’t ask how it went, or what Max did with the bracelet. She’s already got the keys in ignition, the backseat packed with what meager belongings she and Max have left, and she’s outside the truck, shifting balance from foot to foot, waiting._ _

__She hugs her mom so tight that Max’s heart aches just looking at them. “I love you, Mom. I’m sorry I’ve been so shitty. I’m sorry for everything.”_ _

__“Now don’t you be apologizing to me like y’all are heading off to your last supper, at least pretend like you’re a better driver than that,” Joyce says, and her voice is choked up and she’s trying so hard to be strong. Max loves her. “Call me on the road, all right? Don’t be leaving me in the dark.”_ _

__They let each other go, and hold soft, teary gazes for a moment, before Joyce’s gaze turns on Max, who fidgets. “Now Max Caulfield, I know you don’t expect to just keep standing there like a stranger.”_ _

__She comes into Joyce’s arms not so much reluctant but as guiltily relieved, and just sighs when Joyce squeezes her tight as bursting._ _

__“Max, you’re an angel in human clothing,” Joyce whispers. “Thank you for being there for Chloe. Thank you for saving my daughter.”_ _

__There’s no air in her lungs or room in her throat to respond. She just hugs Joyce tighter._ _

__Joyce squeezes her back in kind. “Be safe out there, my love. Keep watching out for Chloe.”_ _

__“I always will,” Max whispers._ _

__Joyce runs a hand down her back, then lets her go, smiling through her tears. “I know, honey. You’re such a good girl.”_ _

__When they turn towards David, who’s awkwardly standing by the head of the truck, he takes his hands out of his pockets and then just looks at them like he’s not sure what they’re for. “I, uh- Chloe-”_ _

__After a brief, uncertain look at Max, who nods encouragingly, Chloe swallows, takes a stride forward, and sticks out her hand. “Hey,” she says. “Take care of my mom.”_ _

__Gratefully, he takes her hand and gives it a hard shake. “I will.” Then, uncertainly, “You be careful out there, Chloe.”_ _

__Half-cocky, Chloe lets go of his hand and sticks hers in her back pockets. “Hey, it’s Max’s job to be careful. Mine is to have fun.”_ _

__Joyce huffs and rolls her eyes, but David just smiles a little, and gives an acknowledging nod in Max’s direction. “S’pose so. You two make a good team.”_ _

__Saying so flashes Max back to a reality she’s trying so hard to forget, her arms and legs still strapped to a chair, and she has a frightening. moment where her knees go weak. Then Chloe is throwing an arm around her neck and drawing her close, supporting her weight. “Yeah,” she says by Max’s ear. “Of course we do.”_ _

__When they climb in the car, they don’t look at each other, but Max gets the sense they both know that when the car pulls away, they’re never coming back._ _

__Chloe turns the keys, Max leans against the window, and then they’re on the road._ _

__\---_ _

__After five minutes of driving, Max says, tentatively, “Do you want to turn on some music?”_ _

__“Sure, yeah,” Chloe says, sounding distracted, and reaches blindly for the radio knob. The CD in the slot clicks in and starts up halfway into a song._ _

_"… have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss..."_

__Immediately, Chloe turns off the radio again, before Max can even feel a stab of recognition. It’s only when she sees Chloe’s shaken expression that she’s able to place it: the Wednesday morning song, the first kiss song, the bright warm day that happened a million years ago._ _

__Max has to look back out the window, so Chloe won’t see her face._ _

__“Um,” Chloe says, and Max can hear her swallow. “Maybe, uh. Maybe you should try sleeping, actually. I know you haven’t been.”_ _

__That’s kind of nice, that Chloe knows, but Max just shakes her head, forehead grinding against the glass. “I can’t.”_ _

__“What do you mean, you can’t?” Chloe says, voice edgy._ _

__Part of it is that it’s easier to stay awake than it is to try to sleep, but Max just says, “Nightmares.”_ _

__“You mean- Max, look at me,” Chloe says, and her voice is so high octave and thin with worry that Max can’t help it. When she looks, Chloe’s eyes are flickering between her and the road. “You mean you’ve been having nightmares? Or you’re scared of having them?”_ _

__If she’d known Chloe would tug the thread, she wouldn’t have said anything at all. Still, she’s not going to lie. “I had one.” When Chloe’s eyebrows raise, she goes on. “On Friday, when I passed out at the beach. I can’t- I can’t see that again, but I know if I go to sleep, I’ll dream about it.”_ _

__Forehead creased, Chloe says, “On the beach? I thought that was more time bullshit. Did you just pass out?”_ _

__Who fucking knows. “I don’t know,” Max says. “I think parts of it were real, but a lot of it was… in my head? It was fucked up. Everything was fucked up.”_ _

__“What happened?” Chloe says, and she’s trying to be helpful, she’s trying to be there for Max. Max closes her eyes, tries to think of a way to say what happened while distancing herself from it._ _

__It isn’t possible. “Everything was fucked,” she says again. “Jefferson was there, and he was- and I was- but it wasn’t just him. All these people were in it, and they either were threatening me, or-or blaming me for killing them. I was there, another me, blaming me for killing everyone. You were there, and you hated me. Dead birds, blood everywhere. I kept trying to get back to the lighthouse, I could always see it and I knew you were there and I was just trying to reach you but whenever I got close it would get farther away and I-” All of a sudden her breath stops short on her, and she has to stop talking, take some deep breaths and press her head harder against the glass._ _

__“Jesus, Max,” Chloe whispers, and she sounds so wrecked that Max wants to cover her ears, nearly considers rewinding to take it back and then immediately feels nauseous. “And this was before you woke up on the cliff?”_ _

__She can’t keep talking, so she just nods._ _

__Chloe makes a noise high in her throat. “And you still-”_ _

__But she doesn’t finish her sentence either, grasps for words and finds none. There’s silence for a moment._ _

__Once she gets her breath back, Max says, so soft Chloe might not even be able to hear, “So I can’t- sleep. I just want…”_ _

__It’s off limits to say _I just want to be here with you_. She knows that. Instead, she says, “Could we just… I don’t know. If you wanna talk, I’ll listen. Or whatever. Whatever you want.”_ _

__For about five miles, she’s left to assume that what Chloe wants is to drive in silence, so she just lets that happen, leans back against the seat._ _

__“This is what I always wanted,” Chloe says suddenly._ _

__Her gaze doesn’t leave the road, not even when Max turns to look at her. She just keeps talking. “To be out. Out of Arcadia, not owing anything to anybody. Running away with you.” Now she looks over at Max. Her eyes are sharp with something Max knows will cut if she isn’t careful. “I know I said Rachel, before. But it was always you. When I was a kid, even when you were gone and Rachel was here. It was always you.”_ _

__There’s nothing she can say. She just looks back at Chloe. Chloe looks back at the road._ _

__“And now here we are,” she continues, her tone very even. “Living the dream. And all that had to happen is for Arcadia Bay to get FUCKING decimated.” Without warning, she swerves off the road, sending Max grabbing for the dashboard, and pulls into park by the side of the highway before pressing her face against the steering wheel. The horn blares, then goes silent._ _

__“God,” she says, muffled into the rubber. “I feel like a fucking monster.”_ _

__Max can’t touch her, won’t touch her. She swore to herself back at the lighthouse that this was the deal she would make, just so she could still be here in this car with Chloe. “Chloe,” she says, “don’t _ever_ think that. You’re not a monster. I’m the one who-”_ _

__Head jerking suddenly back up to glare at her through red-rimmed eyes, Chloe snaps, “Max, just because you say so doesn’t make it true! You’re not God anymore!”_ _

__And it’s so out of left field, it’s something Max has stamped down inside herself so forcefully, that she sees the horror in Chloe’s eyes before she even feels it herself. Her mouth has gone dry. “I know I’m not,” she says. “I never was.”_ _

__“Max, I’m so sorry, God, I’m so sorry,” Chloe says, and she’s still staring at Max with fear in her eyes like she’s broken something precious, hands gripping the wheel white-knuckled. “I didn’t mean to- I’m such a-” When Max just shakes her head, half in protest and half to clear it, she cringes. “How can you possibly…”_ _

__She trails off, and when Max looks at her again, she just swallows and starts the car again. “Sorry,” she says. “Listen, I think we should stop at a motel for the night. I know a place.”_ _

__And Max wants to say something, she does, but she isn’t God and she never has been. She doesn’t have all the answers. The rest of the car ride is silent._ _

__\---_ _

__They book a room with one bed, because as Chloe says, they can use all the cash they can get, and in Max’s opinion they shouldn’t be wasting whatever pains Joyce went through to give them two hundred dollars for their journey. They call in a box of vegetable lo mein from the menu on the desk beside the bed, and eat it on the floor together, subdued and tired. It’s only eight when they both crawl into bed._ _

__Chloe sleeps on her back, she always has, but when she shuffles under the covers to the right of Max, she settles onto her side and stays like that. Max does the same, only she faces Chloe instead of away, watching her ribs move, watching the locks of her hair as they slide slow down the back of her neck._ _

__After half an hour of looking at Chloe’s back, Max whispers, “It’s okay if you hate me, Chloe.”_ _

__There’s no response, but Max hadn’t expected her to be awake. Hoped she wasn’t awake, probably. It makes it easier to continue. “I didn’t choose you because I wanted you to feel like I was saving your life, or that, you know, we had to be together. We don’t have to be, if that’s not what you want. All I wanted was for you to be alive. And that was my choice. You don’t owe me anything.”_ _

__She thinks of Chloe kissing her on the cliff, tearing her lip open, and how she had thought that if she died right then it would be fine, it would be perfect, she could die happy if she knew Chloe was alive and had cared about her at least once. “And listen,” she says. “I love you. You have to know that. If you don’t-”_ _

__There’s a sudden squeak of bedsprings, and then Chloe is facing her, hand resting by her head and eyes wide and shining in the dark. Max shuts up immediately, uncertain if she’s crossed into dreaming or not._ _

__“Do you really think I hate you?” Chloe whispers, and all Max can see in the dark is her eyes. “Have I really fucked this up that much?”_ _

__Everything in Max wants to say _you haven’t fucked anything up, I fucked everything up, everything is all my fault_ , but she feels like it would be pointless to keep saying this to Chloe when she already has and it’s done them no good. She stays silent. _ _

__“Max, I _love_ you,” Chloe says, and the ache in her voice is so tangible that Max can feel it in her own chest. “I love you more than anything. How can you not know?”_ _

__Probably because she didn’t believe Chloe would want to, after what’s happened. After seeing what kind of person Max is, someone murderously selfish. Max shakes her head, hair squashing against the pillow. “I couldn’t know- I couldn’t be sure, if it wasn’t- if you weren’t- but-”_ _

__Chloe rolls over onto her back, looks up at the ceiling. “God,” she says. “Max, if you think I’m mad at you- it’s impossible for me to be mad at you. It always has been, even when we were kids. And I love you now more than I ever have. And I hate that- I hate that I’m alive and able to love you like this. I should be dead. I know that. You know it too.”_ _

__Even if it’s true, Max doesn’t believe it. “No,” she says forcefully, “no, Chloe. If I was given my power for any reason at all, and I have to believe I was- it was to save you. I was in Arcadia Bay and I was in that bathroom and I was in that tiny corner of the world so I could save you.”_ _

__“I don’t want to be alive just because you love me,” Chloe says._ _

__It’s like a punch to the gut. It’s worse than anything Jefferson had said or done to her, to be lying in bed with a living, breathing Chloe that’s saying _I don’t want to be alive_ , saying _Max, you’re not enough_. Max feels warmth pooling at the corner of her eyes, feels her throat close up. “Chloe-”_ _

__“I don’t deserve to be alive,” Chloe says, and her voice is at a normal volume but loud in the motel room, angry and trembling. “All those people are dead because of me, because I was supposed to die in that bathroom and I didn’t and I guilted you into letting me live-”_ _

__“No, Chloe-”_ _

__“It shouldn’t have been because of me,” Chloe whispers, “you shouldn’t have to be living with this just because of me, Max. I see it in your eyes, you’re sad all the time now and I’m so scared you’ll always be sad and I know I’m not enough to fix it, I shouldn’t have lived just because you loved me, I don’t deserve it, I never did anything to deserve it!”_ _

__The sentence ends on a choked off sob, and Chloe buries her face into the pillow. Max swallows._ _

__She lets Chloe cry for a moment. Then she says, “Do you really think me loving you has nothing to do with you?”_ _

__That seems to startle Chloe, enough to raise her head off the bed. “What?”_ _

__“I was given the power, and it was my choice to make,” Max says. “You said that on the cliff, that you couldn’t make the decision for me. I didn’t choose you because you, I don’t even know, _guilted_ me into loving you. That’s not how it works! I chose you because I knew I wouldn’t be able to live without you. Maybe it had to do with me being selfish, but it had more to do with you, Chloe. The world’s not worth shit if you’re not in it. If you’re not able to laugh or smile, or, shit, get mad at me or brush your teeth or hug your mom, then there would’ve been no point to anything! You make people like Rachel want to be better. You make people like your mom and me want to be alive! You are worth so much, so much more than that fucking butterfly photo and dying alone and scared in the bathroom. You deserve a chance to be happy. You deserve everything.”_ _

__Chloe’s eyes are welling so thickly with tears Max is having a hard time distinguishing between her gaze and water now. “Max,” she whispers. “God, Max. That’s not- that’s not me, it’s you, you’re the kind of person people die for. I’m not like that. I’m going to let you down.”_ _

__“No, you won’t,” Max says. “You can’t. Chloe, I’ll love you forever.”_ _

__Chloe’s eyes are glittering in the dark, weak and weary. “Max, I know you love me,” she says. “I do. But you can’t- you can’t say forever. You don’t know that.”_ _

__Even after all this, even now, she still can’t believe that Max means what she says. Max has let her down so much. She bites her lip. “I do know that,” she says, her voice a teeth-tight whisper. “I’ve been to forever, and I loved you then. I love you always.”_ _

__There’s a ragged intake of breath, and Chloe’s eyes close, and then Max is in complete darkness. “Max,” she says. “I never meant for this to happen, Max, I’m so sorry.”_ _

__“I’m not,” Max says, and every time she’s said so, she’s felt detached from the words, a comfort and not a declaration. This time she means it. This time Chloe really has to believe her. “I haven’t been, not for a single second. It’s terrible and awful and I hate myself for it sometimes, but I would do it again, for you. I’d do anything for you.”_ _

__She closes her own eyes, because it doesn’t make much of a difference if they’re open or closed, but suddenly there’s a warmth on her cheek that startles them open again. Chloe’s there, her hand on her cheek. Chloe, eyes open, right in front of her._ _

__“You love me,” Chloe whispers, and her breath is hot and human on Max’s cheek._ _

__Max closes her eyes again. “I love you,” she says. “More than anything.”_ _

__Chloe kisses her, but it happens so fast Max can barely register it. Then they’re back apart, Chloe’s hand still on her cheek, both of them breathing the same air._ _

__“No one-” Chloe begins, and Max can tell she’s crying, but in the dark she’s too clumsy to try to wipe away her tears. “No one’s ever-”_ _

__“I do,” Max says fiercely. “It doesn’t matter, I do.”_ _

__This time, when Chloe kisses her, it’s with enough determination that Max can kiss her back._ _

__When she wakes up, there are bruises on her ribs from where Chloe was holding her, so tight it felt like dying. Waking up to them, though, feels like being alive._ _

__\---_ _

__They climb in the car the next day, not like new human beings, but like older ones. Like people who have stopped standing in the same place, and are walking. Chloe helps Max up into the passenger seat. Max turns on the radio._ _

__Chloe turns on the car, and then sits back, lets it idle for a minute. “I was thinking last night,” she says, “and we should discuss a game plan.”_ _

__“Okay,” Max says._ _

__“So here’s the deal,” Chloe says. “I totally think we should still go to Seattle and see your parents. And also Seattle.”_ _

__“Agreed,” Max says._ _

__Grinning slightly, Chloe fishes a damp envelope out of her pocket. “But,” she says, “we still have two thousand-ish dollars, and I think it would be a shame to waste it. So we should also think of a next generation destination for after we visit your folks.”_ _

__“Holy shit!” Max says, and grabs the envelope from Chloe to rifle through it. Chloe leans back, a shit-eating grin wide on her face. “You still have this?”_ _

__Rolling her eyes, Chloe says, “It’s two grand, Max, I didn’t just leave it lying around the house. More importantly, your thoughts?”_ _

__Carefully, Max reseals the envelope and hands it back. “Hmm,” she says, giving it some real thought. “Well. San Francisco was nice, I thought you might like it there.”_ _

__“San Francisco it is, then,” Chloe says, grandiose, then frowns. “Wait. When were you in San Francisco?”_ _

__Max just smiles wanly. “Another time.”_ _

__Chloe looks at her. Max looks back, and reaches for her hand. Their fingers link like it was meant to be, and Max decides to believe that it was._ _

__The open road is so empty without them, and it’s waiting for them in the way they were once waiting for it, as children, as adults, as teenagers stumbling unsure into the world._ _

__The pavement is even, though, and there is no place to be stumbling here, and when Chloe brings the truck onto the highway, the way ahead is smooth._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to the new Adele song 35 times while writing the back end of this, if that tells you anything.
> 
> So, Polarized. I didn't dig it. I'll say that freely. But I'll always love Life is Strange, and I'll always want to write more about Max and Chloe. This fic was mostly to answer a lot of questions I had about the 'save Chloe' ending, which I take as the canon- namely, 'who made it out?' 'Where were they even going at the end?' 'What about Max's parents?' 'Doesn't Chloe's reaction to the destruction of the town for her seem a little too ambivalent for her character?' You know, nitpicky stuff.
> 
> I'm not done, people. The sequel for burning floors out is still coming. I love Max and Chloe and that's no secret. I'll be back for them again. I hope you guys will be too.


End file.
